


Born to be forgotten // Larry Stylinson

by lazybearrr



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No One Direction, Gay Male Character, LGBTQ Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:34:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazybearrr/pseuds/lazybearrr
Summary: Harry Styles is a quiet, shy sixteen year old. One day he attends the circus, in which the alluring Louis Tomlinson performs. After being intrigued by him, Harry starts to frequent the circus more often, only to catch a glimpse of the charming boy. He only contemplates him from a prudential distance, until they finally exchange some deep, pensive words, overloaded with a bizarre meaning. Will numerous bonfires and never ending nights under the stars, immersed in long-lasting conversations about the meaning of the universe create an unbreakable bond between them or will their secrets manage to tear them apart forever?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 2





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Larry Stylinson fanfic. It's the first one I publish, I hope you like it<3  
> It's also available on Wattpad : )

The subtle clouds were making their way across the sky, calmly waiting for the dim light of the orange sun to fade away. A chilly breeze announced the end of September, and the yellowish leaves languidly fell off the naked trees, covering the endless street.

It wasn't as cold as to wear a coat outside, though the day couldn't be considered exactly warm either, which was reflected in the rushing people passing by, with a clear lack of enthusiasm, hurrying up to arrive home before getting caught by the increasing wind that was predicted for that night.

A growing, curly-haired boy wandered through the leaf-covered path, under the pale branches, causing the orange leaves on the ground to alternate.

It was such a pleasant evening, he thought to himself. The air was impregnated with peace, and that marvellous, fascinating feeling that Halloween was coming, shortly followed by Christmas. Despite not being very fond of this american celebration, which he considered overrated and unoriginal, he couldn't help but feel excited for the general happiness and joy, accompanied by a short but well-deserved school break.

Autumn was his favourite season, he had no doubt about that. He loved to stare at the colourful leaves, falling with parsimony, awaiting their only and final flight with impatience. He could spend hours admiring the grey clouds, observing the way they calmly, gradually passed away, leaving space for new dark, casually brighter, masses of air.

He was happy. It may be considered that he lived the standard life of a sixteen year old boy: he attended the typical British state school, and had a few close friends. His grades were okay. Nothing compared to the bewildering, astonishing usual A+'s from his elder sister Gemma, of course. He was proud of her, for not everyone could show off their Oxford student nineteen year old sister. As everything, however, the brilliance of Gemma's studying ability had its own disadvantages. Not only did he miss her, as he was not used yet to the fact of not seeing her every day, but he constantly had the feeling, which started when he was growing up, that he wasn't going to accomplish anything compared to what she had. But it was okay,he thought. Therefore, Harry was used to not being the center of attention. The world didn't revolve around him, he was very aware of that.

One could describe him as an introverted teenager, but that isn't the perfect adjective to reflect his personality. He was indeed quiet and a bit shy at times, especially in terms of meeting new people, that's for sure. He must admit that he was awfully bad speaking in public, or performing any other activity surrounded by expectant, unknown strangers, even if they weren't actually paying attention to him. He became extremely nervous in these situations, only wishing for them to end.

For that he enjoyed activities that didn't involve being surrounded by people, such as playing chess. It was a shame people didn't appreciate the value of that intriguing, extremely clever and complex board game these days, he thought to himself every now and again.

Yes, he didn't understand people sometimes. He completely questioned why every single person felt the need to be accepted and admired from those who surrounded them.

He only wanted to be left alone, hot tea mug in his soft long hands, peacefully reading a book while enjoying the calm, placid sunlight of a Sunday winter morning. Was it too much to ask?

A sudden, unexpected honk of a car out of his bizarre thoughts and introduced him back to that monotonous never ending reality he had to face every day no matter what. It was indeed always the same. He woke up at half past six, as the large needle rested precisely over number six of the red, flaming alarm clock next to his tidy bed, interrupting the peaceful, precious underrated morning silence that he so adored. After getting dressed with absolutely no rush, he lazyly wandered in his bedroom for a bit, before he proceeded to go downstairs, where Anne, his loved and beautiful mom who he admired, calmly sat at the small wooden kitchen table, peacefully finishing the last piece of toast with jam and butter while sipping her morning Lady Gray tea.

She eventually left to work, not before wishing her son a good day with a kiss on his cheek, who was by then enjoying his usual Weetabix with yogurt, staring at the wide window, admiring the unique beauty of the english countryside.

He afterwards left for school, well dressed in a navy-blue neat formal uniform, which he didn't actually mind wearing, unlike most of his fellow schoolmates. After the usual long, companionless sixteen minute walk he finally arrived at school, and attended to all his classes- his favourite one being geography.

He usually walked back home with his best friend since Year 6, Niall Horan. Even though they were neighbours and attended the same school, the blond, irish, loud seventeen year-old was always late everywhere, school included, no matter what. For that reason, having known his friend for so long, Harry prioritised arriving on time to his classes over spending every morning alongside Niall's company. Don't get him wrong, he completely loved him and would definitely not change him for anything in the world, but running to school wasn't his favourite morning activity. Niall didn't mind either, because he often got a ride there anyway, as his mom worked in the same neighbourhood.

He was now thinking about his life, thoughts entering and eventually leaving his untouched and steadfast mind. He got in his small but cosy house, and proceeded to enter the ocherous-themed kitchen. After grabbing a pack of his all-time favorite biscuits, the classic Pim's filled with strawberry jam, he went upstairs and he sat down on his baby blue bed.

It had been the usual, overlong and extremely monotonous day. He was used to it now, he had accepted with parsimony that nothing remotely interesting or intriguing was ever going to happen to him. In fact, that was the main reason why he never did anything out of his comfort zone. He was trapped in his own body, unable to face his fears, to allow a stranger to rescue him.

As the evening went by, he did his homework, he finished the book he was reading and he had tea with his mum. They quietly sat in the wooden cross back chairs of the dining room, occasionally breaking the peaceful and comfortable silence with the typical questions about their respective days.

Much to Harry's surprise, his mum didn't seem as cheerful as usual. He noticed her eyes were tired, definitely more than how they usually were in the late evening.

He felt a sudden worry, an upcoming need to ask her what was wrong. However, due to his shyness and lack of ability to express his emotions, he decided to act like everything was normal, pulling out his best smile and finishing the few peas he had left on his plate.

It was best to wait and observe, he thought to himself: he would be attentive the following days, so he could figure out if it was only a one day thing.

And so he did. After two weeks without seeing any improvement in his mother's mood, he decided something was definitely out of place. He unknew the reason for Anne's sudden tiredness and lack of enthusiasm, if there was any, so he came up with a brilliant idea. A random idea that occurred to him while he was walking down the street from school that very evening, body filled with tiredness after several nights without being able to sleep properly. Immediately after setting his eyes on that leaflet that happened to land just were his feet were placed that very moment, he knew it was just the thing his mom needed right then: he was going to introduce her back to a world overflowing with joy and happiness, where she would be able to escape all her troubles. He was going to take her to the circus.

What he definitely did not imagine was that that one trip, that one visit to the circus would change his life.


	2. II

Orange sunlight intruded Harry's bedroom through the wooden window, announcing the clear sky and the arrival of that Wednesday's evening.

The day was finally here, the enthusiastic teenager thought. The extreme happiness he felt that very moment made the one week wait worth it. Not only had his mother smiled for the first time in days when he had handed her a fifteen pound circus ticket the past Monday, but Harry had spent the whole week looking forward to attending this wonderful, exciting event. Moreover, he had bought two big bags of popcorn from the supermarket three days before the show, so that he could enjoy the whole performance next to his mom without having to worry about standing in large queues or being hungry.

Nevertheless, he highly suspected that Anne wasn't as excited as she seemed, for a tiny part of his sometimes not-so-brilliant brain came up with the thought that maybe, only maybe, she had deduced it was the also the first time her son was embraced with such happiness in an awfully long time. Faking excitement would be, therefore, a mechanism to expand the boy's unexpected joy, and that was truly the only wish she really had.

He was gracefully dressed for the occasion. He wore a classy stylish white shirt, covered in a denim jacket. Although his initial idea was to add a bow to his outfit, after starting in the mirror a few times he finally decided it was maybe slightly too elegant for attending a circus.

He found his way to the bathroom, which he had previously shared with his sister Gemma. He hadn't worn perfume in ages,ever since his aunt's wedding in May, but the occasion made him grab a bottle of vanilla perfume he'd gotten for Christmas, and spray it all around his glamorous body.

¶

The shining lights temporarily blocked Harry's vision. The sonorous, joyful music resounded in his wishful ears.

He ambled through the red marquee, contemplating every detail, staring with excitement at every circus employee.

Even though he was surrounded by people, strangers to be more precise, he didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Maybe it was his exuberance and bliss, or just the magic of the setting, of that moment he had so awaited.

He followed the crowd, illuminated by the bright, colorful lights. He reached for Anne's hand, who beamed at the feeling of their physical contact. Together, mom and son, they entered the great marquee where the performance was being held. It was even more fascinating than the entrance, of course.

They unhurriedly made their way to their seats, located at the right side of the marquee. The view wasn't the best, he must admit, but perfectly fine to enjoy the performance that would be taking place in a few minutes. That didn't matter to Harry, however. He honestly didn't care where he sat, as being in an actual circus was more than enough for him, and that was clearly reflected in his green, bright exhilarated eyes.

¶

The show was amazing. Astonishingly great, absolutely breathtaking. Harry's slender hands ever hurt so much clapping after every performance.

His favorite one had been a clown who juggled, even though he had genuinely loved all of them.

Sadness and a bizarre feeling that he couldn't describe, similar to nostalgia, started to embrace him. It was the final performance. The last time, perchance of his entire life, that he was in a circus.

As the lights languidly turned in a royal shade of blue., the expectant audience held their breath, awaiting. He decided to relish that final moment of peace and joy, therefore he took a deep breath and contemplated the scene.

Suddenly, a white spotlight appeared at the center of the large circus ring. Harry's emotional eyes followed the bright light, heart beating like it had never before, excitement flowing through his veins.

A classical yet intense melody began, interpreted by a string quartet. The notes magically came to life, touching and creating a great impact to the open-mouthed audience. It was the most beautiful sound Harry's ears had ever had the pleasure to hear.

Out of what seemed nowhere emerged a breath-taking figure. The silhouette of an eighteen year old teenager, white light from the focuses reflected on his bare biceps. The man, or muscular angel, judging by his beauty and carefully designed costume, which included ultramarine tights, descended from the height, hands fixed on a trapeze edge.

He began moving his body in a slow, slightly fascinating way, according to the graceful melody, interchanging his pulchritudinous arms' position on the great trapeze. As the rhythm of the music gradually intensified, he started performing rapid substantial manoeuvres, giving an impression of infinite, careless freedom.

He swung himself, imitating the careless flight of a grand bird, passionately reaching for air in order to continue the striking performance, blending with the blue lights. He displayed his body as it truly was, creating a marvellous experience for both the captivated spectators and himself. A pureness, transparent, genuine feeling was transmitted through his alluring movements, so that one could appreciate the sincere, full moment he was living. The true expression of the performer could be observed, due to the exhibition of the whole, gorgeous version of himself.He suddenly fell, causing the lights to immediately turn off, leaving the breathless audience immersed in a heavy darkness, after having made them gasp, and their hearts to jolt.

A few silent moments went by, before he emerged again covered in a shining, golden costume that substituted the previous one, which became an extension of his graceful body as he rapidly gained velocity and ended his performance with even more powerful, energetic movements.

The life, passion he motioned with was transformed in strength and impact of the fascinated audience, who started a simultaneous, loud and sincere applause immediately as the lights faded, reintroducing them to darkness, followed by the opening of the side yellow focuses.

A silent and unnoticed tear came down Harry's cheek immediately after realizing it was over. It couldn't be, he would not accept the fact that the dazzling, magnificent performance had ended.

He felt an inexplicable need to find out who the gorgeous trapeze boy was. He was so grateful for the exquisite experience he had been fortunate enough to have witnessed, and he therefore wished to thank him for blessing him in such a way.

He carefully got up the red seat and proceeded to walk the marquee entrance, before telling his mom he was going to the loo.

As he made his way down the covered in red carpet stairs, he felt a nervous feeling in his stomach. Not the cliché type of fizzly butterflies, but a curious, timid insect that crawled inside his stomach, longing to escape, craving to be free.

A golden sign announcing the dressing rooms of the artists appeared in front of him. There was no one in his sight. For the lack of security guards and circus employees, he decided it was relatively safe and easy to access the dressing rooms without being noticed.

He entered the passageway that led to the dressing rooms, occasionally coming across fatigued performers with bodies drained of energy, who gave him an unbothered look.

After a couple of minutes languidly wandering around various bijou marquees, walls covered in faded posters publicizing previous shows, which dated from the mid 50's, he set foot outside.

He observed dozens of colored, little yet compact caravans spaced in front of him. They were beautifully, caringly painted, home to constantly traveling human beings, whose life varied every single day.

A bit bothered by the slight chilly breeze, he quickly passed his eyes though his sight, longing for that breathtaking boy. He only wanted to talk to him, of course. He definitely didn't wish to make any further acquaintance with him, at all. He most certainly was not imagining what it would be like to be in a relationship with a muscular, tantalizing circus performer, carefully watching his alluring manoeuvres on the trapeze all day. Not at all.

He suddenly caught a glimpse of him. He was seated on a wooden step of a caravan, about fifty feet away from Harry, gracefully tithing his garnet shoes. He was wearing a peak coat of the same colour, with golden shining buttons, covering the costume he had previously showed off. When he finished, he stood up in front of the caravan, and he walked away in a classy way.

Harry did not dare to approach him, and he thought that he would maybe return the next day, as the raucous melody from his phone loudly announced that his mum was already wondering where he was.


	3. III

A week had passed since Harry's attendance to the circus show, yet he had returned to the grand marquee four times.

He was obviously not obsessed, at all. Nor that angelical boy,whose name was Louis Tomlinson, as he had discovered the previous day in one of his now frequent secret visits, occupied the vast majority of his thoughts.

He still hadn't talked to him, nor made the effort to approach him. He just stared at the boy, contemplating his smile, his bright blue eyes, his allure, from a distance.

Not that he wasn't longing to start a conversation with him, to get him to know better. In fact, he spent most of his days wondering what it would be like to hear the voice of that artist, to see his radiant beam from a short distance.

However, he didn't dare to, as he was truthfully afraid of messing up, of making a fool of himself. So he preferred staying at a prudencial distance, with the guarantee of being safe without abandoning those pleasant escapes that had become a main part of his not-so-boring daily routine.

He had also made friends. Well, not exactly, but he wasn't used to meeting new people. He had started to exchange simple "hello" every time he came across a tall boy in his late teenage years, his dark hair covering part of his fine face.

He carefully held a sunflower yellow velocipede, which Harry supposed was part of his performance number.

That dazzling afternoon they exchanged a timid smile. They certainly did not know each other at all, yet they had created an unexpected and inexplicable connection that united them in a bizarre way.

Harry had also made acquaintance with a good-looking man about the same age as him, maybe two or three years older. One could observe his muscles, being silhouetted across his burgundy uniform, that contrasted with his kind eyes. Despite his straight posture, and the inicial seriousness he inspired, embraced with the formal plaque informing the audience that his name was Liam Payne, he seemed an understanding and friendly person.

Harry deduced he also worked in the circus, not as an artist but maybe as a ticket seller or an assistant.

He had not told Niall yet about the frequent visits to the circus. He didn't have anything to hide, more like the opposite, as he was longing to introduce him to the marvelous, fascinating, metaphorically noiseless universe that encompassed the circus.

As he walked by various training artists, willing to improve their technique before the very next show, he noticed a pair of eyes fixing themselves in his bare nape.

He laggardly turned around, to face two deep blue eyes observing him. He perceived a curious, thoughtful gaze, not harmful at all. Just a peaceful, enjoying look that seemed to examine every since part of his now slightly tense body, savouring the boy's innocent heavenliness.

Harry's first thought was to start darting as rapidly as his long legs allowed him, due to the sudden exposure he felt by that unknown look. However, he did not fancy sweating, and less with this disastrous weather, nor he saw himself capable of not tripping up with an unfortunate object and making a spectacle of himself, and consequently not being able to return to the circus or face any of its inhabitants ever again.

Therefore he acted exactly as a completely calm person would in his situation. He perhaps did not manage to act as precisely, yet he did mutter a timid "hello", for which he temporarily had no reply.

Instead, Louis began walking away, unimpressed by the curly haired boy. He absolutely did not have time for enabling a conversation with a complete stranger, nor the least interest in being acquainted to him, Harry thought.

Furthermore, he also immediately had three hours of training. Circus life wasn't effortless nor trouble-free, despite its splendour.

Step by step, he walked to the grand marquee, where his practice took place. He certainly did not intend to turn around to gaze at that boy he had recently seen before, yet he found himself languidly shifting his head to contemplate the angelical figure for one last time.

¶

The days passed by with no rush, intercalating thunder, blizzard and bright blue sunny mornings.

Harry had not returned to the circus since his first encounter face to face with Louis, as he felt too exposed, like he had discovered a long-term secret, his bizarre mind being deeply examined.

However, he was longing to return. He kind of missed it, truthfully. If he was completely honest with himself, he felt the inexplicable need to contemplate his fine face, even from a distance. He found himself thinking about Louis all day. And he was very aware that he shouldn't occupie his thoughts every single hour of the day,yet he simply couldn't help it.

¶

The screen of his phone lit up as a short text message from Niall appeared, which invited him round to his house.

He grabbed his keys, placed his phone in the back pocket of his trousers and proceeded to exit his bedroom.

As he made his way to Niall's, which was only five minutes away if one walked fast, he texted his mum, who was probably working, that he'd be back for tea.

He suddenly bumped into a definitely unexpected force,that caused him to fall down in the middle of the street.

How embarrassing.

He put his head up, more confused than anything. He wasn't concerned about his body, at least not yet. What the hell had made him fall?

Before his eyes could search for a reasonable explanation, a voice addressed to him.

"I'm awfully sorry!" the voice exclaimed with a calm tone, as Harry frantically flicked his eyes and fixed them in the person's face. It was a boy, more or less the same age as him... That he had definitely seen before. "Are you all right?"

Harry found himself staring at him. Shit, he had always been terrible at recognizing people.

He cautiously examined his face, which he was sure he had already done before. Where? He didn't have a clue.

"Are you all right?" the voice repeated, now with a more alarming tone,which made Harry realize he was maybe worried due to his lack of response. He immediately felt guilty and awkwardly moved, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He managed to mumble "Yes, thanks", observing the relief that had now replaced the worry on his face.

They stared at each other for a few short yet not awkward moments, that made Harry ponder that his answer might have been a bit too dry, so he added an "and you?" to his response.

"I'm good. I'm sorry that I caused such inconvenience, really".

Damn, he wished he had that ability to randomly speak to strangers as if he'd always known them. However, much to his surprise, he didn't feel awkward at all. The boy inspired comfort and trust.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay. Seriously" he said.

"Oh, I'm truthfully glad to hear that. Besides, haven't I seen you before? '

Harry moved, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable again." Uhm... I was thinking the same thing... I don't know where though ".

Liams' eyes suddenly lighted "Ah, I think that I remember. Is it possible that you may have happened to be at the circus, here in town, the past Thursday? If I'm not wrong, of course."

That was it.

Perfect, he now seemed a creep that intruded the circus' properties every now and again. Great.

" Yeah, I guess that's it."

The boy smiled, delighted. "I'm Liam" he extended his hand "Liam Payne. And you are...?"

"Uhm... Harry. Styles. Harry Styles. Yeah."

"Good to finally meet you, Harry. You visit the circus often, don't you?"

"About that... I mean... Yeah, sure."

"You can come by anytime, you're always welcome"

"Uhm...thanks."

"I'm afraid I should get going, I'm running late. Nice to meet you, even in the unfortunate circumstances we did. Haven't seen you in a bit... Maybe you could come by sometime?"

"Yeah, sure. See you around."

And with that, Liam started to walk in the opposite direction, leaving a confused and overwhelmed Harry.

For the first time in what seemed such a dull life, he felt his stomach stir with excitement.

He had a good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading<3<3


	4. IV

As the days passed by, Harry couldn't forget Liam's words. They were forged in his brain, awaiting freedom.

Nothing new had happened the past few weeks, nothing at all.

Maybe that was a good thing.

After arriving home and vaguely saying hi to his mum, he proceeded to lie on his bed. He was extremely tired, and a bizarre feeling kept following him, as if it was his own shade.

A tiny, tiny part of his mind hadn't stopped insisting that he was to attend the circus, as he had been invited and was sincerely willing to accept it. If he was honest, however, maybe it wasn't so tiny.

Therefore, he eventually made up his mind and started walking to the circus.

Nothing had changed. Of course, it had only been a few weeks, yet he had the feeling of knowing the place, of understanding.

He wandered through the entrance of the marquee. He was now able to appreciate its fine details with calmness, and contemplate the general beauty of the place.

He was sure that, despite how many times he ever entered the marquee, the feeling of astonishment and absolute peace would never fade completely.

The now familiar faces turned around, with an expression that reflected their understandable thoughts: "oh, seems like he's finally returned, couldn't stay away for too long". They were right. The initial fascination had never abandoned his mind. However, something wasn't quite the same. His purpose had been transformed by his mind: instead of wishing to immerse himself in the glittery, astonishing world, deep inside he was longing for the sight of Louis. For some inexplicable reason, he couldn't seem to escape his dazzling mind.

A cheery, informal voice extracted him from his thoughts, causing him to jump in shock, which he politely concealed.

"Hi, may I help you?" the voice asked with kindness. As Harry could observe, it belonged to a ginger, smiling girl. Her face was covered in tiny freckles, and the bright green eyes reflected an apparent friendliness and warmth. "I'm Mia."

"Umh...hi, I guess. I'm Harry, Harry Styles. Well, just Harry" the girl smiled lightly "Uhm...I was wondering if Lou..." he looked down, nervousness starting to take over his body. "Never mind, I actually have to leave. Sorry."

As far as he wanted to see that alluring boy again, he just couldn't pick up the courage to say so, and even less having to face the consequences which that apparently simple action would cause.

"Are you sure? We can show you around the circus if you'd wish to." She was friendly and nice indeed, and the idea of spending time with her didn't seem so bad at all. Besides, he didn't have any other major activities

"Well, actually, I could stay for a bit. If you don't mind, of course."He was polite by nature.

"No, not at all. I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you here. By the way, have you met Liam?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he has" answered a handsome looking man as Harry was opening his mouth. Liam. Where had he come from? "Doing alright?"

"Uhm...yes. You?" He timidly said.

"Yeah, doing fine. Why are you here, anyway?" He asked, with a suspicious look in his hazel eyes. Shit, he knew he was here for Louis.

"Just walking by and thought I'd say hello" Good excuse, Harry. So original. Innovative, even.

"Oh, we are pleased to see you. Would you like to see Louis?" He said with a wide smile, as Mia laughed. They both knew, he was sure of it. Maybe the whole circus company was aware of his frequent visits. Fantastic. He momentarily considered the option of running away as fast as he could, yet his legs started to hurt whenever he ran for more than two minutes, so he discarded it.

"Actually, he's busy right now" Intervened Mia. "Maybe you can come by later? We're doing a small party, if you'd like to join us for a bit."

He, Harry Styles, was getting invited to a party. What on earth was happening? Not that he had never had the pleasure to attend to such events, yet he wasn't used to socialising that much with strangers.

"Yeah, mate, it'll be amazing. I'll text Zayn and see what he thinks" Liam said, with a...sweet?, excited smile on his face.

"That's a great idea. Oh, are we talking about Zayn Malik? The one who you invited the other night?"

Wait a second. Could that be Niall's neighbour? The boy who sat next to him in biology class? It could not be him.

"Zayn Malik, who lives down that street I...saw you that day?" He quietly asked, afraid as he was to interrupt a conversation in which he wasn't taking part that very moment.

"When you literally bumped into me, you mean?" Liam laughed, yet stopped when he saw Harry was looking at the floor, slightly couloured and embarrassed, disguising it with a cough.

"About that...I'm sorry."

"No, no, I'm the one who's sorry. Anyway, do you know Zayn?"

"Yeah"

"Cool! He's my boyf...one of my best friends".

"Oh, I didn't know that you knew each other".

"They know each other reaaally well Harry'' Mia said, with a wide grin on her face "More than you'd expect." He was confused now. Some kind of secrecy was going on between them and he didn't seem to get it.

Liam looked if he was about to throw a stone at Mia, eyes filled with fury which certainly scared Harry for a moment.

"Well, would you fancy to join us?" finally said Mia, a small smile still present on her face "It'd be great, honestly. Then we, Louis included, of course" she widely grinned again, before a tiny sparkle appeared in her green eyes "could get to know you better, seeing that it won't be the last time that you come here just to contemplate the nice sights."

Harry was quite sure that that sentance hid a double meaning, yet he didn't make any comment that could give away the truth.

His mum was working that night, and seeing that Gemma would probably be studying, as it was the only thing she ever did recently, he considered the option. If he managed to get out of the house without being noticed by his sister and was back before one, as he had class the next day, he could easily attend the party and return safely at home. Plus he would see Louis, and maybe, just maybe, listen to his voice. With that he left the marquee, after having said goodbye to Liam and Mia, with a bizarre, completely new emotion that strangled his stomach.


	5. V

He sat on the doorstep, observing the shining stars in the sky.

The escape had been easy enough, as all his predictions had resulted to be true. While he waited for Niall to walk together to the circus, he touched the grass with his bare hands, enjoying its nocturnal freshness. As soon as he had told his friend that he was going out, Niall hadn't thought it twice, excited and expectant. Why or how Harry got invited he didn't know, but he was for sure going to have a good time.

As soon as he appeared at the distance, Harry started walking towards him. He wore a black, Pink Floyd t-shirt, along with skinny jeans and black converse. A parka jacket embraced his body, protecting it from the expected cold of the night. Niall, however, had gone for a more elegant look: a blue denim jacket covered his shoulders, which combined perfectly with some brown sneakers.

He wasn't going to lie, he looked extremely handsome.

Within seconds they were entabling a fluid conversation, and without realising how fast time had flown, they arrived at the circus.

Under the dark,starry sky, the marquee was even more impressive. The light inside it illuminated the narrow street, embracing them with an inexplicable fascination.

"Tonight is going to be wild, mate, I'm sure" The irish boy said, with a rather enthusiastic voice.

"Let's hope so" was Harry's silent, single response. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

They entered the marquee, delighted. It was truly amazing.

"Hey, there you are! We thought you wouldn't come!" said a greeting voice, coming out of an entrance that connected with the outside.

"Hi Liam. I bought a friend of mine, Niall...Niall, this is Liam. Liam, this is Niall. I hope it's not an inconvenience." Harry said, with a slight shyness.

"No, not at all! Nice to meet you."

"Hey there. I've heard so much about you."

"That's a lie, Niall!"

"Irish, huh?" he smiled widely "I've got the feeling that you and I are going to get on together really well."

"I hope so. Where 's the party? I fancy some beer."

"Are you off age though?" Niall gazed at him, surprised at first and then slightly embarrassed "Just kidding mate. Follow me."

With a clear expression of relief on Niall's face, they both walked behind Liam, who was now disappearing through the entrance he had come from.

As he stepped outside he saw a group of people sitting on the ground in a circle, about four meters away from them, some of them with their legs crossed. Light provided by a medium fire illuminated their joyful faces, which produced loud laughs and wide smiles.

"About time, Niall!" exclaimed a voice that came from the circle. Harry didn't recognise it immediately, yet he deduced that it was Zayn's, as it was the only person there that could know Niall's name.

"Zayn, mate!" Yes, it was indeed him "I certainly wasn't expecting to find you here. How come you're attending a bonfire outside a circus in the middle of autumn?" Niall loudly replied.

"I could ask you the same question. I'm here because my boyf..." he immediately turned his face to take a glimpse at Liam, with a worried look on his eyes "Liam, my friend. He works here".

"Oh, I see. Nice to be here with you... Doing alright?"

"Yeah" he smirked and looked at Lia "very well, actually".

They then sat down between Zayn and a ginger haired guy, whom Harry had never seen before. The integrants of the group presented themselves one by one, all with elegant and sincere smiles on their faces.

They talked and laughed a lot, and much to Harry's surprise he actually opened up, as he had known all those strangers for years.

He nearly even forgot about Louis. He hadn't seen him yet, which was strange, as Liam had said earlier that he would be at the party. He focused on his new friends instead, willing to keep forging that unusual friendship with them.

It was not how he expected it to be: the typical party filled with drunk, maybe unconscious teenagers, snogging each other as if it were the last day on earth. Only some empty cans of beer were to be seen on the ground or held by sober, amusing people.

No truth or dare, or any other stupid, bizarre games that Harry couldn't help but find very uncomfortable were played. It was a calm, friendly evening next to an increasing fire.

"If you could be anywhere right now, Harry, would you be?" asked Zayn, trying to begin a conversation with him. It was a casual, apparently meaningless question, yet the curly-haired boy provided anyone who was listening with a sincere and deep answer.

"Uhm... I think I would be here" he replied quietly, nearly whispering.

Everyone stayed silent for an instant, immersed in their own thoughts.

They were starting to realise that Harry was special. He was the kind of innocent, faithful friend that stayed next to you no matter what. One that was impossible to forget or to get away from, as he was always there, willing to support and understand your problems. He was a gem.

"So romantic!" intervened a out of nowhere. It's tone was filled with sarcasm, and one could clearly see that its owner didn't exactly think it was romantic. He hadn't heard it before, yet it caused him to shiver.

All the circle members turned around, facing an apparent amused face.

"Oops'' replied the person, with a slight grin on his face "I didn't mean to break this magical, romantic moment. Louis Tomlinson, by the way. I go by he/him pronouns, currently working here" he lazly pointed at the principal marquee "nice to meet you."

"Hi," said Harry, quite uncertain on how he was supposed to react in that precise situation. His voice quirked slightly, and a sense of nervousness started to fill his body.

Damn, why did he have to make a fool of himself in the most inappropriate situations? At that point, Harry felt himself swimming in a sea in which constant waves fearfully intended to drown him in the depths of embarrassment.

Everyone was either staring at Harry or at Louis now. A gelid yet inexplicable calm tension was floating in the changed atmosphere. The wind suddenly intensified, causing them all to shiver.

"Uhm... Louis, do you wish to join us?" said Zayn, in an attempt to break the growing tension.

"Of course. Who do I have the pleasure to be sitting next to?" he asked, as he sat down with Niall on his left side.

"Niall Horan, mate. Nice to meet you".

They soon began a conversation, interrupted only by sudden sparks coming from the fire.

It looked as if everyone was having a good time. Great, in fact. All except Harry, whose envie to finally meet the gorgeous Louis Tomlinson had rapidly faded away the moment he had pronounced such sharp words. Maybe he was exaggerating the whole situation, as no one else seemed to care much about it. In the end, his words were only innocent, his sarcasm not bad intended, yet it still hurt profoundly the sixteen year old boy.

He started talking to the ginger haired lad, who he had now discovered was named Ed. He composed tunes for the circus, as well as singing and playing the guitar or piano in some of them. He was the creator of the joyful music that accompanied the artists performances and made them even more spectacular than they were.

As the conversation went on, acting mainly as a distraction to Harry, the sky became darker and the little noise of the street languidly faded away.

It felt like they were the only people in the world, and he very much enjoyed that.

His conversation with Ed had evoluted, giving place to the circus life, when they were interrupted abruptly.

"Excuse me, would you care to help me go and fetch some bears inside?" said Niall.

"Uhm...can't you go on your own?" Ed replied, conserving his politeness.

"I could, but I don't want to. Besides, don't you need the toilet?" he said back, with a slight nervousness in his voice.

"No..."

"Just come, Ed. Please" he insisted while looking at Liam ,who had also gotten up, leaving a stunned Louis behind him, feeling profoundly ignored.

"Yeah, it's...important?" said Liam. Harry had no clue whatsoever of what on earth was happening.

"If you insist" Ed finally said, annoyingly getting up, while an expression of joy and relief filled Niall's face.

"Thanks, mate. Took you long enough. Be right back" he said looking firstly at Harry, and then at Louis with a smirk on his face "in the meantime, you two could chat for a bit while you wait for us to come back, don't you think?."

And with that they started walking as they left behind a clearly perplexed and confused Harry.


	6. VI

They stared at each other. God, why was he, Harry, always to be in uncomfortable situations? He wasn't exactly a social human being.

And now he was forced to have a conversation with a person who seemed to ignore him. Marvelous.

He observed the reflection of the orange flames in Louis' blue eyes, which created a truly unique contrast. His beauty was breathtaking.

"So, how's your night going? Are you enjoying it?" Louis finally asked, breaking the ice between them. It wasn't a forced question destined to break a non-existent tension, and Harry somehow felt it and understood it that way.

"Yeah...I've never been around a fire like this. Surrounded by nice people, good company, you know?" he said, with a timid look in his eyes.

"I'm not really great company, to be fair" he said back, slightly laughing. He then looked down, and the momentary mixture between a smile and a bizarre sadness that had occupied his face disappeared.

There was a heavy pause.

"Do you really think so?" said Harry, a minute later, looking at him cautiously yet inspiring compassion and kindness.

Louis didn't look directly at him. It seemed as if he was fighting against himself to decide what to say. A true civil war was going on inside his brain, considering the possibility of exposing his most vulnerable parts to a complete stranger who somehow seemed to be trustable.

So he said part of it.

"Umh...yes. Well, people listen to me because I'm funny and I make stupid, meaningless jokes, but at the end of the day I'm not a really interesting person, you know? If I were, things would be quite different. I dare say that I would not be here, for a start, but one does never know the highs and downs of life, doesn't he? "

He had just completely changed the direction of the conversation, hadn't he?

"Uhm...I guess so" replied Harry, in a small voice.

They continued to stare at each other for several moments, until Louis finally intervened, rescuing Harry from a perpetual silence.

"Kinda ruined the mood then, don't you think?"

Harry cautiously nodded. He wasn't going to risk ruining the conversation.

"I'm always like that. Constantly defending myself with somehow empty words filled with sarcasm, even when there's nothing or nobody willing to hurt me. I know it doesn't make sense, it's just...never mind, why am I even explaining this to you? You should be having fun, not listening to the irrelevant thoughts of a chump like me."

Silence. Again.

"I don't mind it, really. And...I think that it does make sense. In the end, it's your life, right? Your emotions, your way of...existing? See, that doesn't make sense either, but in a bizarre way it does. And you're not irrelevant, at all. You're only... misunderstood."

A look that Harry had never seen before in any other human being appeared in Louis' eyes. He couldn't quite comprehend it, even though he tried to before the imminent silence.

Harry didn't dare to say anything, and neither did Louis. He was staring at his illuminated hands, immersed in his thoughts.

"I think I might go to fetch some more...water?" he eventually said, slightly nervous, getting up.

"Uhm...okay."

Harry hesitated for an instant, before rapidly standing up

"But...are you okay?"

Louis looked surprised, as if no one had ever asked him such a question. As if nobody had ever been worried about him. Harry's heart shrinked, half in preoccupation, half in pain. A sudden urge to hug him, to make him know that he was not alone, that someone actually, genuinely cared about him recurred his whole body.

"Louis...?" he asked again, as the boy had proceeded to stare at the ground.

"Why do you care?" he replied after a brief pause, still not daring to make eye contact. His voice came out as a silent whisper, almost inaudible. It was raspy, like he was breaking in his insides, or as he had been doing it for an awfully long time.

"Because...look, I don't know you. I've never talked to you before in my life. In fact, I wasn't even aware of your existence until some days ago" he made a pause to catch some are, as he was running out of breath "I don't know what has happened to you during your life, or if right now you feel lonely or your personality is just like this, but I'm here, okay?"

Harry did not dare to look into his deep, blue eyes. He was too afraid of what he might see if he immersed himself into them. So Louis talked.

"Thanks Harry. Truly"

And with those dazzling words, he left the curly-haired boy with his mouth half open, expecting an unknown sensation that never arrived.

¶

He woke up in an abrupt shudder, visibly disoriented. He stared at the white ceiling, wondering if everything had just been a dream.

I certainly could have been, yet it felt so real, so authentic. He had a genuine feeling that those late hours of the night had really happened, and were not at all an invention of his mind. So he decided to text Niall. After all, if he had gone out the irish lad had probably come with him.

As he got up of his bed, he felt a sudden pain originating in his head. It was definitely not a usual headache. He felt intoxicated, like his skull was about to unexpectedly explode in a million pieces, leaving him in perpetual agony.

He had never felt this way before.

He reached for his phone with clear difficulty, and was blinded by the light proceeding from the screen as he turned it on.

He had several lost calls from his mum, alongside with various texts from Niall and a timid 'how are you feeling?' from Zayn.

Oh. What time had he come back?

Niall had seemed to guess that those would be Harry's main worries as soon as he woke up, so he had previously decided to inform him of the whole situation. Yes, he had gone out. He had talked next to the fire to Louis (the pronunciation of his name caused Harry's heart to jolt), texted an over-enthusiast Niall, and then had gotten drunk. Both of them had returned to their homes, with wide smiles on their faces as they clumsy danced and sung 'Mr Brightside', or as Harry then reckoned, they shouted, which had probably deeply annoyed their dull, conservative neighbours.

He concluded that he was in a hungover state. Fantastic. Considering that it was nine in the morning, not omitting the fact that it was Friday and he should be at school. Fabulous.

He rapidly got dressed, not conscious of the smell his body emitted, and rushed to school, hopelessly wishing no one would notice he was over an hour late.


	7. VII

It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Harry was standing in front of the circus, after previously having decided to go and check if Louis was doing okay. He could not exactly consider them to be friends, yet he cared in a bizarre way about him, as he had discovered after their first and last to the day chat.

He was greeted by a smiling, approaching Liam, who initiated a casual, friendly conversation with him about his favourite chocolate bars and the weather. However, as he seemed to realize that Harry wasn’t exactly there to pay him a visit, he invited him to come in, and led his way to a vivid red caravan, covered in golden drawings.

“I’ll go to fetch him” he said, before he rapidly knocked on the heavy door.

A figure emerged from the inside, which Harry quickly recognised. Louis Tomlinson himself stepped towards outside, carefully calculating his moves, as if Harry was the most precious person in the world. The orange sunlight blinded him temporarily, before producing a divine effect on him.

They cautiously stared at each other, waiting for something to happen. There was a palpable tension between them, yet not uncomfortable or sharp. It was just...there.

After several silent and expectant moments, Louis gracefully descended from the stairs. He had a curious look in his eye, like he certainly wasn’t expecting Harry’s visit, or as he would not allow himself to believe that he had actually used his valuable, probably short time in visiting him.

His surprise increased as he realized the existence of the slight, or perhaps not that small, possibility that he might mean something to him: that his persona was welcome, and valued. However, he absolutely could not allow the continued presence of those irrumpting thoughts in his mind. He could not get too comfortable with that stranger, yet familiar boy in a way.

A gentle breeze made both of them shiver slightly, and Harry’s stomach jolted. His skin was sweating, embraced in a constant nervousness. Why wasn’t he emitting, or even showing signs of his response?

Why had he returned, in the first place? Why had he even expected Louis to be at least pleased to see him?

He started to turn around, finally giving up. He was a stupid, dumb human being.

He took a deep breath and moved his foot in order to return back home. To abandon the divine fascination that Louis had produced on him.

The wind began to howl intensely, blurring hazy words.

He immediately shifted his head, looking behind him. Had he just spoken? No, it was not possible at all.

“Wait!” the voice said. He quickly recognised the alluring sound of those words, and his heart pounded for what seemed like the fifth time that day.

Louis.

Louis Tomlinson had just spoken to him.

So he listened to his voice, to the charming words he had to say. Yet they didn’t arrive.

He was staring fixedly at him, like he was afraid to open his mouth due to the words that could come out of it. The look in his deep blue eyes was indecipherable. He was incapable of seeing his soul.

They continued to silently contemplate each other's resplendent beauty, a bizarre feeling embracing them. It was like the sun had finally come out after a thousand eternal days of darkness. As if the infinite monsters crawling in the insides of his stomach had finally managed to emerge at the surface, bursting out of their bodies with a bold joy that they hadn’t felt for years, perhaps in forever.

So they remained like that, for an hour out, perchance two. Quietly ignoring the world surrounding them, dedicating all their hopes and energy to savoure that unique moment, that different connection that had happened to appear between their souls, if such existence was real.

It was comfortable in a fascinating way.

After a long period of time, in which Harry’s legs had experienced multiple cramps, Louis glared at him for a final moment and proceeded to turn around. He didn’t say anything, as there was no need for it.

Even words could not explain the new, yet ancient in a paradoxical way, bond that had been born.

¶

As he made his way across the marquee entrance, Harry became aware of the presence of a peaceful solitude that accompanied him. A sense of magical brightness intruded his insides, creating an inexplicable emotion.

Following his instincts, he turned around. He was facing a wooden table, slightly wobbly and visibly old. The antique piece of furniture was not what captivated his attention, but a golden envelope that rested on it. He languidly approached such a piece of paper with curiosity. After a cautious examination of the object, he found out the existence of a single word, written in black letters.

Harry.

His name was written on a mysterious golden envelope. Of course, it was a quite usual name, yet he felt that it belonged to him, that it had been placed here with the single purpose of transmitting some kind of secret message to him.

He felt as the envelope was calling him, as it had the need to communicate with it.

A bizarre instinct told him to ignore his crazy mind, that was rapidly elaborating theories about the existence of such a piece of paper, and take it with him. He only had to go to a silend park on his way home, sit on a rusty bench and stare at it, maybe even open it, if he dared.

He was quite tempted, he must admit. Despite all the effort he made to resist it, he found himself walking down the street, the envelope in his hand.

After what seemed like two eternal minutes, Harry decided to open it, so he proceeded to sit down on the tender grass.

He wasn’t impulsive, yet he could not resist: he opened it, with caution, of course. He didn’t want to risk ripping or damaging it in any possible way. It was too valuable, too personal, too...unique.

His hands were trembling as he tore it open. A small, faded white piece paper rested in its insides, impatiently yet peacefully awaiting to be discovered.

He examined its content: a neat and cursive letter filled the paper. A spair of quotes were visible.

Thursday, the 28th of November

6pm

Niall is also invited.

See you then.

It was anonymous. Of course.

Harry proceeded to move away the tiny note, only to discover two cherry red pieces of card, covered in golden letters and a bar code.

He had just gotten invited to the circus.

And he didn’t allow his mind to imagine who it had been.


	8. VIII

Niall wasn't surprised at all when he saw the invitations. They were clearly directed to them, and somehow it didn’t seem to make the irish lad think, more like the opposite.  
He considered that it was perfectly normal to receive such tickets in order to attend an event of such dimensions.  
Well, maybe he was slightly exaggerating, as it was a current performance, yet his memories of the only one that he had attended were definitely unforgettable.  
He could not wait to see it all again, to regard the spectacle like it was the first time.  
His head keeps spinning, questioning every now and again who could have possibly indirectly given him the invitations. Liam, Mia, Ed, and even Niall himself crossed his mind, making him doubt without getting to any conclusions. It would have been very kind of them to do such action indeed, yet he couldn’t see a strong enough reason to hide it in a perfect envelope.  
Not once did it occur to him the slight possibility of the fact that it might be someone else. In fact, he didn't even let himself think further, indagate more.  
The possibilities were limited to those four people, maybe Zayn included. That was all.  
He would just go to the performance on Thursday, and then he would maybe discover the identity of that mysterious, anonymous person.  
\---  
The performance was spectacular, as they had both expected. Niall seemed fascinated, and Harry's amazement had not decreased. In fact, he had probably enjoyed it more than the last time, as he had been able to appreciate every tiny detail, Ed’s perfect music included.  
After the show they both went outside to meet the boys. It was only nine o’clock, so they had time to greet them and congratulate them for such a breathtaking act.  
They came out of their caravans one by one. Ed was the first to come out, yet he soon became immersed in a parallel talk with a fascinated old man about his music, that was fastly transformed into an intense conversation about trumpets.  
After a while Mia came by to say hello. Harry had discovered that she was a gymnast, and he sincerely congratulated her with all his heart. The glittering blue makeup that surrounded her eyes still remained visible, which made her smile even more wider and the crinkles by her eyes adorable. However, they were not able to enjoy her presence for long, as a blond girl who appeared their age soon interrupted them, smiling fondly at Mia.  
About ten minutes went by and Liam went out of his caravan, followed by Zayn. They both had rosy cheech and their eyes were shining for whatever reason.Liam tried to disguise the euphoria he was feeling at that very moment passing a hand through his dishevelled hair, which Niall found extremely funny.  
“Why do they even try to hide it anymore?” asked the irish lad with amusement.  
“Hide what?” asked an innocent Harry.  
“Never mind,” replied Niall, hiding a small smirk.  
Liam and Zayn were soon by their side, having an intense conversation.  
Louis was not to be seen anywhere, the absence of his presence didn’t surprise Harry at all. He was used to his constant mood-changes, and he perfectly knew that the older boy had no reason at all to be interested in having a conversation with him.  
A bizarre golden object suddenly caught his attention from a distance. He proceeded to go to examine it, as he was uncertain of where that light came from, leaving the lads with unbothered faces.  
He reached the place in a few seconds, as he had walked considerably fast. He approached the mysterious object. It was an envelope. A golden envelope. Just like the one he had received the day before. Besides a crimson caravan was someone he definitely didn’t expect to see in that very moment.  
Louis was sitting on one of the wooden steps, head between his swollen knees. It was the most vulnerable way Harry had ever seen him. In fact, it was probably the most fragile moment he had experienced, as he faced a deep, obviously worried creature, immersed in his own thoughts to even acknowledge Harry’s presence.  
He didn’t know what to do. He was in front of an exposed, broken Louis, and had no clue on what to do whatsoever. He didn’t know if sitting next to him in an attempt to comfort him would help at all, or if it would just make everything worse.  
Yet he could not leave,as he was totally certain that if he made a small step, if he only moved one inch, Louis would acknowledge his presence.  
He finally concluded that there was no escape, and found himself making a step forward in order to provide help to that gorgeous boy. He didn’t know the reason for his hideout behind one of the caravans. God, he didn’t even know if he was crying, or if he was just resting his head, trying to escape fatigue. However, a subtile, timid sob told Harry that the boy’s odd position wasn’t due to tiredness, but to sadness.  
He felt his heart sink.  
Before Louis could even realise he was regarding the scene, Harry softly placed an arm on his shoulders, which caused him to abruptly lift his head, searching for the source that had interrupted such a personal scene.  
That was the moment in which their eyes met. Louis’ now intensified blue ones, which now looked as they were languidly fading, mixed with Harry's predominantly emerald green ones, in a new, unfamiliar way.  
Louis’ eyes weren’t clear at all. They reflected an internal storm that had been going on for too long in his insides, yet wasn’t planning to fade away anytime soon.  
It broke Harry’s heart.  
The fragility in which the boy had now found himself exposed to was totally too much for Harry. He felt like he had interrupted a peculiar, personal ritual, and that he deserved to be punished for that. He had added even more lightning to the thunderstorm present in Louis’ entire body, fighting to become free.  
He felt like he had broken the nonexistent trust that had hoped to accomplish.  
“I’m sorry”, he said after several silent moments in which Louis stared at him, with an indecipherable look on his face.  
“Don’t be.”  
His tone was sharp, so sharp that it crushed Harry’s heart again.  
“Louis-”  
“Harry,” the curly haired boy had never heard his name pronounced in such a cold, frivolous tone “what do you want?”  
“I-”  
“What do you want from me?”  
“I don’t want anyth-”  
“I don’t care! I don’t care, Harry, because can’t you learn to mind your fucking buisness?”  
And that hurt. That hurt an awful lot. The pieces of Harry's insides could not cope with more.  
“You’re everywhere. You keep coming to the circus, thinking that nobody knows that you're obsessed. No one cares about you, okay? At least not here. People don’t keep insisting on how amazing you are, they don’t talk of you non stop. No one cares about you, Harry” his voice broke, letting out a barely audible whisper. “ So why do you care?”  
His mind was racing. He remained there, frozen, unable to reply to such comments, incapable of reacting.  
“Why do you care?” Louis repeated, with the same bitter tone. This time it wasn’t intended for Harry. It was addressed to himself.  
“Because- I’ve cared about you since the day I first contemplated your eyes.”  
A heavy silence returned, only interrupted by the frequent sobs coming out of Harry’s body. It was tense, unlike their previous encounters.  
“Har-”  
“Stop.I don’t want to hear anything you have to stay. I have tried to help you. I’ve been sincere with you, and I’ve given you a chance to be honest” he let out a non-intended sob, yet he managed to pick up some courage and pronounce the last words for a long time to the boy who had occupied his thoughts in the past weeks. “I just- I can’t. I’m sorry, Louis.”  
And with that he left, running desperately, completely heartbroken in the opposite direction, so that Niall wouldn’t have to feel forced to rush behind him to confront him.  
He ran. He kept focused, forcing his mind to move every single muscle faster, making his empty lungs that were desperately crying for help burn with the anger and complete desolation the boy was feeling at that very moment. Facing forward, the world was seen from a totally different perspective, feeling the intense pump of his heart, taking short gasps of air while his long legs got splashed with mud.  
He wouldn't allow any more tears to roll down his rosy cheeks.  
The darkness of the poorly illuminated street intensified the speed, causing him to dart past sleeping buildings and empty parks even faster. The only light which allowed him to glimpse his fatigued shade came from old, partly broken lamp posts, that vaguely reminded him of the fragile spark in Louis' eyes that had appeared that wonderful day by the fire.  
He did not smile though. He only contemplated the few memories they had had the pleasure, or the misfortune to experience together, become bitter and darker.  
The urges of this body to stop running, the feeling of exhaustion that embraced his body wasn't enough to stop his intense anger and desolation, so he focused on his breath until he finally arrived at his doorstep, close to passing out.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you enjoy the story :) it will get more interesting haha <3


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